Forfeit
by akaSky
Summary: AU: Slave. SLAVE...? Shuichi glared disdainfully at the list of his chores his new 'Master' had given him. If that beautiful blonde haired Adonis thought things were going to be easy, then he had a whole other thing coming. Full summary inside.


Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation. It belongs solely to the ultimate genius known as Maki Murakami.

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_Summary:_** Struggling artist, Shuichi Shindou, can't seem to get a break in life, especially when his record company chooses ASK over Bad Luck. Just when things can't seem to get bad enough, fate further mocks him when it throws another bad apple his way. Kicked out of his condominium for outrageously overdue mortgage payments, Shuichi has no choice but to compromise with the new tenant.**

**Soon, he'll learn that he should've just stuck with looking for another condo, as he now must face one of his greatest challenges yet --- meeting the infamous heartthrob writer, Eiri "Yuki" Uesugi. **

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**A/N: **So, while reading a whole bunch of gravy fics and being thoroughly heartbroken due to Murakami-sama's hiatus status, I have been inspired to write my first Yuki/Shuichi fic. Hope it doesn't disappoint you.

With that said, please enjoy!!

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**Chapter 1: Not Even the Punch Line**

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Shuichi stared blankly at the white document in his hands. How could he…? _How could he?!_ His own landlord. The edges of the packet creased and crinkled under his grip as he read the headline:

_Notice of Eviction _

Shuichi couldn't even conform the words of anger in his mouth. Flames spurred forth in his eyes as he glared at the document with new vigor. After all that "understand" and "sympathy" bull, his supervisor had kicked him out in the end anyway. He had tried to explain to his building supervisor, Gai Higa, that being a vocalist took time; that since he was just an up-and-coming star, money wasn't coming in a steady flow yet. At first, Higa let him slide when he was a month overdue. Shuichi always paid him the exact amount sooner or later. So what if he had done it a few times?

Okay, so he's done it to the point where he couldn't even keep track, but there haven't been any gigs lately, and the clubs were demanding for more of ASK. It was always ASK this, always ASK that --- ugh! He was tired of hearing it.

Skimming through the front letter, Shuichi's anger only rose as he read the time he had to move everything out. One week. Right. As if one week was enough for a person to find another place to live in. Damn that Higa!! The document in his hands threatened to rip. Shuichi looked around quickly to find a lighter or a match --- anything to create a fire and burn the dreaded letter. Failing to find it, Shuichi next looked around for a pair of scissors. Failing to find that as well, Shuichi groaned loudly before plopping back down on the chair he was previously sitting on. He needed to breathe, needed to relax, otherwise…

Taking the 75-paged document in his hands, Shuichi proceeded to rip everything in half. Struggling to tear even a single piece of paper, he sat there for a whole minute. How irritating…he couldn't even rip the damn thing. If only looks could burn…

That was it. Shuichi Shindou snapped.

As Hiroshi Nakano stepped through the doors of the studio, a sudden burst of loud wailing threw him back out. Tears stung his eyes as he nearly dropped his beloved guitar to press his hands against his ears. Stepping back through the door, Hiro couldn't resist a begrudging smile at his best friend's childish antics. The pink-haired singer of their three-person band was crying…again. "What's wrong now, Shuichi?" Hiro asked over the deafening wail. He moved to sit in front of his band mate, setting his guitar down.

Shuichi paused his pitiful abandonment to look blear-eyed at his friend. Holding out the eviction notice, he did everything he could to stop the waterfall cascading from his eyes; to no avail, of course.

Hiro looked at the notice. Whistling at the amount of the overdue payment, he gave the document back to Shuichi. "You think that a condo is just a little too much? I mean, there are really great apartments out there, too, you know."

The grin on his face faltered immediately with another outburst of his friend. Oops. Guess he shouldn't have said that.

"It was horrible, Hiro!!" Shuichi exclaimed, climbing atop the table. "I couldn't even get a word in. He just came bustling into my home early this morning and yelled at me about not paying mortgage for the last two months. I said that I would pay him when we finally get a gig but he said no! He said NO!! He said he was tired of never getting the payments on time and that I was lucky that he didn't kick me out earlier. And then, and then, he shoved this in my face and said…he said," he rolled up into a fetal position on the table as his voice became smaller, "I am _evicted_. And that wasn't even the punch line."

Hiro sighed. "Why didn't you just ask me for help if you were in such dire needs?"

Shuichi looked over his shoulder at Hiro. "Dire?"

The longhaired redhead sighed again. "It runs along the same lines as desperate."

Shuichi sat up and huffed. "I knew that," he said, indignantly. As his face turned serious, he continued, "but I didn't want to ask you --- again. I haven't even paid you back for last time."

Hiro merely shrugged and took off his leather jacket. "I don't mind. It's what friends do."

Shuichi wanted to cry again at Hiro's remark. Sniffling, he swiped at his watering eyes. "Oh, thank you, Hiro." Stepping off the table, Shuichi sighed. "But I can't ask you for money again with no guarantee that I can pay you back. Friends don't do that, either."

Hiro opened his mouth to comment on how uncharacteristic that sounded; where was the carefree Shuichi who usually forgot to think of others first? He was stopped short when their manager, Sakano, walked in. "You guys, you guys! This is the greatest day of your lives!! Now tell me, who is your manager?" he asked proudly.

The band members looked at Sakano like he was possessed. "Um, you are?" Hiro tried.

"Exactly! And guess what your manager did for you."

Hiro and Shuichi looked at each other and shrugged. "I don't know, bought us lunch?" Shuichi guessed. At the thought of food, his stomach grumbled. Because of the eviction notice, he hadn't eaten all day.

The suit and glasses-clad manager hmphed in mock frustration. "No, no, no!" he exclaimed. Holding out a record order, Sakano grinned madly. "Your brilliant manager just got you guys a gig at Zepp Tokyo!!"

The grin proved to be contagious as both Shuichi and Hiro exalted their manager. "No way!!" they both cried.

Sakano nodded proudly, placing his hands on his hips. He let both members jump around and terrorize the studio, before breaking a sweat. "But there's one thing…" Shuichi and Hiro stopped their celebration to regard their manager. Although the misleading grin and proud posture still graced their manager's being, they winced at his tone. This wasn't good.

"Are we not performing?" Hiro asked.

"No, no. It's not that. It's just that, well," Sakano paused, breaking out in even more sweat. "It's just that…well, we're only the opening act for ASK."

Shuichi sighed in relief. Sakano always had the tendency to act like the world was coming to an end. "Geez, boss, stop trying to give me a heart attack already, would ya? I just got out of high school here! And I'm on my way to world fame. Don't try and kill me just yet."

Sakano looked at Shuichi doubtedly. "So…you're not mad that we're only an opening act?"

"Nope."

"Not even the least bit devastated?"

"Not a bit," Shuichi reassured with a smile. "Besides, Japan's never got a taste of how good we can really be yet. We'll prove to them that we're not just a bunch of pretty faces! And we'll definitely pound ASK to the ground! We're going to become the number one at NG Records like our idols, Nittle Grasper!! No doubt we'll be able to pull this off. This is the chance of a lifetime. Mwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!"

Hiro smiled and shook his head despairingly. _'And just when I thought he was going somewhere good with this.'_

Suguru Fujisaki walked into the room then, watching a drone-head version of Shuichi laughing maniacally with his hands on his hips. The third member of the band could only sigh. Why in the world did he ever agree to join this band? Tohma was right. What could someone of his skill be possibly doing mingling with idiots like this? As he further contemplated that question, he took his seat farthest from the obnoxious singer.

"Hey, Fujisaki. How'd the meeting with the president go?" Hiro asked, taking a seat across the studio table.

"Same as usual; why am I in a lowly band? I'm kissing my talent goodbye and down the drain. I'm throwing away my life. And other stuff like that."

Hiro leaned his head on one hand. "Mm. I see."

"We'll show the president, too! Just you all wait!" Shuichi declared.

Suguru looked at his vocalist like he grew four more arms. "What's with him?"

"Hiding depression." Hiro answered smoothly.

"Depression over what? Doesn't he usually just cry?"

"Well, he got an eviction notice this morning, but then Sakano told us we got another gig coming up at Zepp Tokyo," they both turned to watch Shuichi. "He's sad over one thing, and happy with another, he doesn't know what to feel. So I guess hyperactive abandonment sums it all up. You know how simpleminded Shuichi can be. He's just going with the flow."

The sixteen-year old sighed. "More like against it. Guess I should expect as much from Shindou-san."

"He's simple, yet complicated. Don't feel bad if he still surprises you. After all, you have only known us for about two weeks."

Suguru nodded in reluctant agreement. "Oh, so about Zepp Tokyo, when are we performing?"

They both turned to Sakano. Their manager slithered away from the hyperactive boy and managed to sit next to Hiro. "In two days from now."

Hiro and Suguru thought about it. "Two days…not bad. Alright. I just need the lyrics from Shindou-san so I can alter the music to it, and we'll be good." They all turned to Shuichi. "Well, Shuichi?"

Shuichi's smile fell as he turned to look at three expectant pairs of eyes. "Huh? Why is everybody staring at me like that?"

"I just need the lyrics, and we'll be ready to perform at Zepp Tokyo," Suguru repeated.

Shuichi grinned sheepishly. "Oh, that silly ol' thing. Alright," he beamed.

As a few moments passed in silence, irritation crept into Suguru. "Well? Where is it?"

Shuichi scratched his head innocently. "What is where?"

"Urgh. The lyrics, you idiot!!"

"Oh, haha…" Shuichi proceeded to rub his neck. He then opened his eyes and smiled apologetically to them. "I haven't made them yet." As soon as those words left his mouth, he was met with three unconscious bodies instantaneously hitting the floor of the studio.

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Shuichi frowned at the paper in his hand. "They didn't have to be so mean about it!" he exclaimed to no one in particular. Recalling the events that happened earlier, Shuichi heaved a heavy sigh. Maybe he really was a baka. He didn't even have the lyrics to their next song yet.

Contorting his face in frustration, the pink-haired boy got up from the park bench and stomped his way over to the railing that overlooked the city. Crumpling the sorry piece of paper that held his new lyrics, Shuichi threw his arm back and prepared himself to launch it over the ledge into the dark abyss of night.

A few seconds passed, his arm still propped to throw it over. Nothing happened.

Groaning loudly, he fixed his composure and uncrumpled the paper. How pathetic…he didn't even have the heart to just toss it. The wind blew softly around him, heightening the sorrow filled atmosphere of the empty night. _Glaring one way…_he read, the first words to the stanza-lined sheet.

It wasn't his fault, really. He just couldn't find the inspiration to write. Not to mention all the crap being thrown into his life recently didn't really help any. Maybe Hiro was right. Maybe he needed to just let loose. Maybe he should find a girlfriend. "Maybe" went a long way.

The wind blew again, harder this time. Shuichi, lost in his reminisce, was distracted, and the paper blew out of his hand. Gasping softly, he searched around for a moment to catch the direction of which his lyrics went. Locking his vision with the path of its escape, he commanded his feet to move and ran after the fleeting paper. "Damn it, come back here, you!"

He rounded a dark corner and stopped in his tracks, nearly tripping over his own feet. There, standing in the only light given off from a single lamppost, was the most interesting person Shuichi's ever seen. His breathe caught in his throat, threatening to stop his air passage. The figure was tall, with blonde hair and pale alabaster skin, standing with a cigarette in his mouth. His eyes were shaded with the shadow hanging over his face due to the poor light. One hand was in his pants pocket, and the other was holding a familiar piece of parchment.

The fact that the said figure was reading his lyrics barely registered into Shuichi's mind as he could only stand there, dumbfounded. As the stranger looked up, Shuichi froze even more as he laid his vision on the most breathtaking eyes he's ever seen. Golden orbs completed the blonde hair and the harsh, yet handsome, planes of his face. The singer couldn't think properly; he could barely move. His sole attention was on the foreigner in front of him.

"Hey, you. Is this yours?" the man spoke, breaking Shuichi out of his stupor.

Oh? His Japanese was perfect, not to mention he accented every word correctly. Not a tourist. Shuichi shook his head mentally, standing straighter and putting a smile onto his face. "Yes, they're my lyrics…"

Lyrics? The man would never have guessed…really.

"…thank you so much for---"

"Give up now," the golden haired Adonis coldly interrupted. Lyrics? This is what these punks nowadays called lyrics? The world was definitely doomed. He frowned around the cigarette in his mouth and held up the paper, uncurling his grip and letting the wind claim it.

Shuichi gasped softly in shock. "What…?"

The stranger stepped forward and cut him off again. "You've got zero talent. You call that sorry combination of sappy love words lyrics? I say it's a bunch of rubbish. A kindergartener can do better then that. Give up now while you're still a head."

And with that, the man walked away, leaving a teary, stupefied Shuichi in his wake.

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He finished packing the last of his things into the largest of his suitcases. Walking over to a nearby desk, formerly strewn with papers, notebooks, and pens, he picked up a single stack of legal documents before heading over to sit on the bed.

_Gravitation_

He scoffed at the paper. What idiot would actually ever name a condo? Was it even an option to do so? Did the other condominiums have names as well?

Eiri "Yuki" Uesugi grimaced begrudgingly at the parchment in his hands. And here he thought that coming back to Tokyo would clear his senses for a while. The city's standards have definitely gone down the drain since he left. Tossing the papers to the side of the bed, Yuki stood up and stretched. He then walked over to the fridge to grab the last of his beer. He had wanted to go out and buy another pack, but what was the point? He was moving out in a week, although in all honesty, he thought the last two packs would at least last him until the week was over. Yuki snorted indignantly. So much for 'I thought.'

Glancing around the now-empty apartment, Yuki snapped open the beer can and took a swig at it. Fumbling around in his pocket for his cigarettes, he finished his swig and expertly tapped a stick out and placed it in his mouth. The smoke brought with it the precious nicotine he loved so dearly. It entered his lungs and diffused into his bloodstream, making the world seem right again.

Somewhere in another part of the apartment, the phone began to ring. Yuki merely glided over to his bed, nonchalantly flopping into its cotton caress. The shrilling died after a few more rings. He heard the voice machine play its recorded message before the sharp tone of a beep went off. He lifted his head off the mattress as he recognized the sound of the caller leaving a message. Straining his ears to try and catch what the man was saying, Yuki sat up on his elbows.

Groaning when he failed to catch anything, he stood up and made his way over to the phone in the next room. Tapping the end of his cigarette into the ashtray next to the phone, Yuki puffed out the smoke previously trapped in his lungs. Placing the stick back between his lips, he put his beer can down and pressed the button to listen to the message.

_Hello, Uesugi-sama, this is Gai Higa, the owner of the condo you've recently purchased. I'm just calling to remind you that the legal papers are due tomorrow so we can finalize everything. We also have to talk about the previous owner. I'm sorry the whole process is taking so long, but I assure you, by the end of the week, the condominium will be all yours. I'll be seeing you tomorrow, then._

BEEP.

Yuki crushed the last of the cigarette into the ashtray. He left his almost-empty beer can on the table and walked back to the other room where his bed was located. The previous owner, huh? So that was why it was taking so long for him to move out of this part of town. Flicking the lights off, Yuki proceeded to plunge into the comforting confines of his mattress. He actually forgot he had a meeting tomorrow for the legitimate papers. That meant he had to wake up early. Damn. Mornings were never his thing.

Turning over to his side, Yuki stared at the wall, hoping to get at least some sleep tonight. Tomorrow, he was meeting the building supervisor. And also that troublesome little punk the supervisor always seemed to blame for his troubles. He also had a meeting with his editor later on the same day.

Speaking of writing, Yuki couldn't stop the image popping into his mind of a peculiar pink haired boy he had met in the park earlier that night. Honestly, pink? Yuki could've sworn he had been looking at a girl. If it weren't for his voice --- which didn't really help since it sounded a little feminine as well --- and the lack of a chest, Yuki would never have taken him as a man. In fact, he still doubted his conclusion of the punk being a male. And those lyrics…ugh. Absolutely zero talent. If it were possible, negative talent. A sardonic grimace flashed across his face. Tokyo really was going down the tube.

Sighing, he closed his eyes. Better get some beauty sleep.

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Shuichi gave in to tears for the umpteenth time that day. Why why why why why why, WHY? What has he ever done to deserve this?! Today wasn't going right at all! Not at all!!

Dropping to his knees in front of the TV, Shuichi looked at it despairingly. NG Records was promoting its newest band, ASK. It wasn't that he had anything against them; he couldn't even remember the names or faces of the band members. It was just that their president, who used to be the synthesizer for his all time favorite idols, Nittle Grasper, seemed to be interested in only ASK. His band was hardly given any attention at all.

The day had started out with a displeasing morning, only to be followed by a semi-sweet afternoon, and then followed by a hair-ripping bitter night. His minds travelled back to the stranger at the park. How could someone you didn't even know diss your art like that? Even if he didn't like it, he didn't have to be so rude about it. He could've just handed it back or something without saying a thing. But no…

Shuichi shook his head and pounded his fist in his hand. "No way!! We'll show the president…we'll show all of Tokyo and the world!! We'll even show that arrogant bastard that he was wrong; my lyrics are definitely not zero-talent. In two days time, we will perform at Zepp Tokyo and rule the world!!!!!"

A hysterical laugh began to bubble up in Shuichi, but before it could surface, a buzzing at his door cut him off. Looking towards his front door, the said boy shut the TV off and got up to see who it was.

The buzzing continued. "I'm coming!!" he piped, turning his casual stride into a jog.

Opening the door, Shuichi was a bit aghast to find nobody there. Frowning in dismay, he moved to slam the door back, when something white caught his eye. His eyes found a note on the floor. Oh. That stupid mailman/telegram/whatever-he-was person could've at least waited for him to open the door to receive the note. Shuichi was annoyed for a moment, before the thought of the man wanting to leave early so he could go home to his waiting family replaced that annoyance with sympathy. Resigning to another smile, Shuichi picked up the note from the floor.

Shutting the door with his foot, he instinctively locked it while reading the heading of the parchment in front of him. The smile on his face faltered to a frown. Great. It was another notice from his superintendent. Deciding to read it some other time, Shuichi set the note on the nearest table and headed to the shower. Slowly, but surely, he was heading for another slump. He couldn't write any lyrics in his current state. The whole world was just against him right now.

_Zero Talent._

The hated phrase kept repeating in his head. He shook his head feverously, as if that could physically get the stranger's voice to get out and stay out. Groaning sullenly, Shuichi broke into another set of hysterics. Today was the worst day of his entire life.

And sadly, that wasn't even the punch line.

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A/N: I didn't have the heart to change the way they first met, so I stole the original storyline for that part. Kudos and thanks to Murakami-sama.

So anyways, WHAT DID YOU GUYS THINK?

I've finally made my debut in the Gravitation fandom, and I hope my first gravy fic appeals to you all. But please, be honest in what you've got to say. Flame me if you want, even. I just want honesty. Any criticism will be helpful. And to those that just wanna say that they loved it, thank you for your support. I love you all.

Hope you all enjoyed it!! Until next time.

~Island Honey


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